See You Soon
by Besieged Infection
Summary: AU Life after Demyx. Is there such a thing? I don't know where you are, but I can't live without you. Please... forgive me. (Sequel to Funeral Sound.)


**_See You Soon_**

**_A story by Torchlight_**

Note: Hello everyone! This is the not-so-long awaited sequel to Funeral Sound! Enjoy Zemyx day!

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They say death is only a part of life- the end, that is.

They say without death we could never truly come to appreciate life. Morons.

They say a lot of things, but their words aren't always true.

They say everything in your life eventually leads to your death. They couldn't be more wrong. Everything you did, said, implied was so full of life it left no room for things like sadness and death. You made every second- every moment- worth it. You made my life livable. Something as wonderful as that could never lead to death. Never.

They say that touch is the most important part of a relationship. They're wrong. It's not that I need to feel you; it's that I need to hear you.

They say you were a genius the way you played your sitar, the way you sang with so much love that those listening would feel it in their very beings; your voice subtly entwining with their soul.

They say you were amazing, and I can't help but miss how your voice felt in my ears. I have those CD's you made me, but I can't hear them any more. I'm sorry; my ears haven't let you in since you broke me. I know you didn't mean to, but you did.

They say I didn't change at all when you came into my life. You with your nervous-wreck of a personality and your precious cue-cards. The way they look at it, your spastic attitude didn't affect me at all- didn't change me in their eyes.

They say I was not affected by you at all. Of course, they never saw us when it was just you and me. They never saw you whisper sweet nothings into my ear- sweet nothings about anything and everything.

They didn't see how you held me so gently in your arms, as if protecting me from the world around us. They never saw me melt into them- my warm blankets of protection.

They say, or said, that we were only friends, though. We never told anyone about us, did we? We never told anyone how you loved me- how I loved you. Not as friends, but as lovers.

They say death is a form of rebirth. A new start, in a way. Oh how they couldn't be more wrong. Since you've died I've done nothing less than turn back into the empty shell I was before I loved you. Death is death; that's all there is to it.

They say I didn't know the real you, but I did. I still do. I know what you'd be doing right now if you were here. You know what you'd do? You'd be screaming at me- calling me an idiot; a moron; a stupid ass for going through with this. You'd take my shoulders in your hands, your wonderfully sinful hands, and attempt to shake some sense into me. Then we would sit against the wall and you would take me into those warm blankets of protection to whisper sweet nothings into my ear, like I did to you all those times before, and everything would be right with the world, if only for a few seconds everything would once again be right. You'd say I was your Zexion and only your Zexion. You'd say that I forbidden to do this ever again, and I would listen.

They say I didn't know you, Demyx, but I know you better than they did. I know you're up there in heaven even though I'm an atheist. There's no way heaven doesn't exist because you're too good to rot in the ground like everyone else. I know you'll hate me for this, too- the way the blood is running down my arm and the razorblade is still clutched so tightly in my hand. You caused this; you know you caused this. You might not be in heaven because of this, too. For all I know you could be in hell.

They say murderers don't go to heaven, so are you in hell? After all; you're the reason I'm like this; dieing at seventeen. It's all your fault because you made me love you as much as you did. Even after you left the love was still there. It's all your fault. I hope you saved a spot next to you in hell because I cannot imagine an eternity of pain without you.

They say you were darker in those last few months- when they started the chemo. I can't say I agree. I really can't. You were so optimistic, even in the end, how anyone could say otherwise is beyond me. Yes, you had shadows, but we both know those shadows had been there since the diagnosis. When they started the chemo you were just too weak to hit it any more. The shadows were always there, just below the surface; it's just that no one bothered to look. They just never bothered to look.

They say your eyes just died in the end. They're wrong. Your eyes died after the diagnosis. Those morons just never bothered to look. You always knew you were going to die- just not that soon. You were relieved, I think, in a way. I think you were relieved to know just when you would die. You were relieved. Heck, in your own twisted way I bet you were pleased. No one knew this. No one knew you. No one… No one but me… No one but me…

They say you shouldn't linger in the pain too long- darkness starts to swallow you up. Well you know what? They're a little late. Had I known those words years ago you would have heard them the moment you needed them. You would have heard them before you had to suffocate inside those empty white walls people call a 'hospital room'. It drove you insane, but at least I was there to grow insane with you every stop of the way.

They say cutting in horrible, but those bastards don't know anything about it. Cutting gives you a sense of control. When you've lost control of everything else there's still one thing to control. Physical pain.

They say cutting doesn't solve anything, but ever since you left it's the only way I can connect with you. Sad that the last thing of yours I can enjoy in your scent. You left it behind- your sea-salt smell. Odd how you've never been to the beach but the smell of a fresh summer wave seems to permeate your very being. A small cut and it overwhelms me, overpowering the metallic tang of blood in the air. It's so strong I can almost taste your skin. Almost.

They say I can't be with you any more, but I don't have to live to prove them wrong. It's the end of your story, now and it's the last stretch of mine. In case I wind up apart from you, know that I love you. If not, well… I guess that leaves onto one thing to say.

See you in hell.

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End Note: There you go! The sequel to Funeral Sound. Hope you liked it! HAPPY ZEMYX DAY!!!!1!1 Review? Kudos to my beta Minikimii!

~Torchlight


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